What the Dicken's? He's a Muppet!
by SisiDraig
Summary: Vince is out of control. Naboo decides to put him back in his place with the help of a well known method first pioneered by the great Charles Dickens! - ONE SHOT! Thanks Left T for betaing also blame her for the title, she convinced me to use it


**Howdy Chaps!**

**I _am _revising and doing my coursework, I swear I am!! Buuuuut, with no hockey to fill my Saturday's I had this gaping hole in my day and filled it, quite naturally, with this! AND I virtually had full marks on my PE prac, so i feel i deserve a bit of a break. Also, i believe xxpipxx threatened me with the prospect of spending the remainder of my life as a Rubix cube, which is not a way i wish to exist!! **

**I'm not promising anything else soon though. I really won't write anything else for a while.**

**Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this!**

**Sisi...xx**

* * *

Vince had become spoilt. Nobody was really sure when the sweetest of boys had turned into the sourest of men but it was causing rifts in the only relationship he'd ever truly cared about. Howard could hardly look at him anymore. Vince had tried to counter that with the use of outfits that are so eye catching mere mortals can't help but look but Howard was well trained. He had no interest in Vince anymore. He never looked at his friend or not that the electro poof ever noticed.

Naboo was sick of it too. He was fed up of the weird atmosphere in his shop. He was confident it was putting off all his customers. He'd mentioned this to Vince, who'd just replied;

"What customers?"

"You, Vince Noir." Naboo warned, uncharacteristically angrily, "are skating on very, very, very thin ice."

"I'm not skating at all. Those ice skates make my feet hurt."

"_Metaphorical _ice Vince." he scowled, "You hardly acknowledge Howard's existence anymore. I mean, are you _proud _of your life so far?"

"Yeah!" Vince beamed, "My hair has been voted Britain's Best Barnet 5 years in a row. I'm the pioneer of the latest fashion trends and…"

"What about friends, Vince?"

"What about them? I've got loads of friends."

"If you died tomorrow, how many people do you think would be at your funeral?"

"Millions."

"And at Howard's?"

"Three. You, Bollo and me… well, unless it was a Saturday. Then I'd have some party to go to."

"You need a wake up call Vince Noir."

"Whatever."

"You're time will come Vince."

"Yeah, okay. I'm going out! See you later Naboolio."

--

He hurled. His guts clenching together. He fell to the floor, weak and boneless. He tried to push himself to his feet but his arms were frail and he was fairly sure his legs had melted away altogether. He thought he was going to die. In fact, he was convinced of it.

"You're drunk." a bouncer yelled in his ear, dragging him up by the collar and marching him towards the door before throwing him onto the cold street. He wretched. He couldn't throw up again. He was sure all his insides would catapult out too. He collapsed to the floor. This was the worst he'd ever been after a night out. He'd never thrown up from drink before. This felt different… this was… this was… Oh. He couldn't think right now. His mind was spinning. His thoughts were fading. The darkness was reaching out and taking over his brain cell. The colour, the lights, the glitter disappeared. Was this what the end was like?

Far away a whisper or a shout, burst in his ears; "_Your time will come Vince._"

--

Vince woke up with a start. He looked down at his outfit. He was dressed in white robes, like Jesus or like a hospital patient or…

"_What_ are you doing?"

Vince looked up. The room was white, nothing but the bed he was in and a small window. There wasn't even a door and there certainly wasn't anyone else in the room. Where was this coming voice from?

"Down here, you numpty!"

Vince's eyes drifted downwards to see one of Naboo's shaman friends; the weird one that Vince had always found terrifying and hilarious in equal measure.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to take you to the alter of the H-man."

"Yeah, I'm strictly humans."

"What?"

"I'm not gonna do… anything with you."

"You're an idiot. Why do you think I'd need any sexual gratification from _you?_ Mrs Harrison is an insatiable, appetite on her like a shark who's never eaten. She takes it like a…"

"Alright!" growled Vince. "Why are you here?"

"Oh. To teach you a _lesson._"

"Huh?"

"You're dead Vince."

"I'm… I'm what?" Vince welled up. "I can't be. I didn't even drink that much."

"Well you're not really dead. Just _sleeping._"

"What?"

"Oh, I haven't got all day. Mrs Harrison is waiting for me."

"But…"

"Just shut up and close your eyes."

There was a whooshing sound in Vince's ears. He was freezing cold and being thrown around like a doll in the arms of a three year old and then, it stopped. The sound of vomiting filled the air. He looked down to see Tony Harrison hurling violently.

"Don't look at me like that. I don't know why Denis sent me on this mission. He _knows_ I get travel sick."

Vince's face screwed up in disgust and he took a step away.

"That's horrible."

"Don't look at me then." scorned the pink blob. "You're supposed to be watching that."

Vince looked in the direction indicated and gasped. It was him and Howard, sat on the sofa in the old zoo hut. They looked strange, younger and they were both smiling and not the smile that meant they'd just got one over on the other but a genuine warm smile. Vince just stared on, his face twitching as it tried to smile and cry at the same time.

"What is this?" he whispered eventually, as the other Vince began to speak.

"It's the past." Tony explained. "Oh, I feel sick. Have you got a resolve?"

"Shhhh." Vince flapped a hand and watched intently as past him leant across past Howard to grab the remote.

"Don't touch me."

"Awww. I'm trying to get the remote. I can't do it if I don't touch you a little bit."

"You could get up."

"You know I suffer from heavy leg syndrome."

"Is that even real?"

"Dunno." past Vince shrugged, finally brushing his fingers on the remote and pulling it slowly into his reach. "Maybe it's just lazy leg syndrome." he sighed.

His tongue was poking at the corner of his mouth. He was really concentrating, trying to balance the twin disciplines of retrieving the remote and avoiding touching Howard. Eventually, he crumbled like a flake, falling fully onto the older man and knocking the remote onto the floor.

There was silence as past Howard glared and past Vince with… was that _fondness_ in his eyes? Vince wasn't sure. He hadn't seen it in such a long time.

"I'm gonna come at you like a tiny pink octopus." growled past Howard, a smile playing across his young face.

"I'm not a octopus!" Tony Harrison's voice almost cut into the memory but Vince ignored it. It was strange watching himself like this. He couldn't really remember this, it seemed liked a distant time, obscured by fog. These memories seemed so far away, not even really like a memory, more like a different life. A life he missed, even though he hadn't really realised it until now.

Past Vince giggled in anticipation and suddenly, Howard was mounting a vicious tickling attack on his friend. Vince was squirming and kicking a bit but Howard took it all in his stride as he pinned the younger man to the sofa. The struggle continued, slowing and halting, until there was just stillness and heavy panting; past Vince and past Howard just staring into each others eyes, studying at each other's feelings. Looking but not seeing; blind to the truth even as they were being drawn together, slowly. Lips closer, almost touching.

Vince frowned. He didn't remember kissing Howard like this. His confusion must have been etched on his face because Tony managed to stop throwing up long enough to say;

"It won't happen. Here come's that fat guy to ruin it all."

Vince looked out of the window and saw, Fossil. No. Fossil would spoil everything. No. Stop. Stop!

"STOP!" Vince screamed, throwing himself at the door, trying to stop Fossil's impending doom. "Help me." he shouted to Tony.

"It's futile." sighed the blob. "You can't stop him. He's a vicious memory monster."

Vince turned his attention to past Vince.

"Kiss him!" he cried at himself.

"It's a memory." sighed Tony. "You can't change the past and you can't go back there either."

"Kiss him!" Vince screamed at his younger self. "You want to, it's written all over your face."

"I didn't know you two were queer."

"I'm not. I'm mean we're not."

"So what? Is that?"

"It's friendship."

"And why d'you want to kiss him? I haven't seen passion like that since my first date with Mrs Harrison. Now, sleep!"

"What?" Vince asked, as Fossil burst through the door and past Howard leapt from his friend and legged it into the bathroom, avoiding the situation allowing both friends to block it from their memories.

"Sleep." repeated Tony. "It's not over yet."

Vince was about to ask 'what?' again but his lids were heavy and suddenly, he flopped, rag-doll-like, to the floor.

--

When Vince woke up, it was to the mutterings of a tall man, dressed in long black robes. Vince couldn't make out any real words but he was fairly sure Tony and Naboo were getting the majority of the abuse.

"…stupid pink testicle." the muttering continued, "Vomiting over my new shoes. Does he have no idea how much I have to spend to get these shoes specially made? Probably not, he hasn't even got feet. He's such a…"

"Umm, hello." Vince interrupted. "Saboo, yeah?"

"That is correct."

"What are you doing here?"

"Didn't Tony explain anything to you?"

"Umm, not really."

"Typical. Half-a-job-Harrison. Right, I'll explain. I'm playing the part of the ghost of present."

"Ghost? Are you dead?"

"No."

"Am I dead?"

"No."

"Is Howard? Naboo? Bollo?"

"No, no, no. God. You really are thick."

"Hey!"

"Have you heard of a Christmas Carol, the great Charles Dickens's masterpiece?"

"I've heard of Muppet's Christmas Carol, the great Kermet the Frog masterpiece."

Saboo sighed heavily; "I suppose that will have to do. I'm the second spirit. I'm going to show you the present."

"Oh, I love gifts." Vince's eyes lit up.

"What? Oh just, watch." Saboo sighed heavily.

The whooshing came again, though it was less intense this time. They stopped for a second, floating in the air above a hospital bed. Vince was led in it, a sort of twisted peace warping his face. He was pale and disgusting but the rest of the room was empty.

"What's this?" Vince asked, peering up at Saboo in confusion.

"This is now. You're in the hospital in a coma. It's visiting hour, so, where are all your visitors, Vince? Where are all the friends you go to parties with? Where's that girl you slept with last week? Where's that Leroy character?"

"Are they stuck in traffic?" Vince asked hopefully.

"No. They're not coming. They don't even know and if they do know, they don't care."

"Where's Howard?"

"You wanna see him?"

Vince nodded, tears rolling down his face. This didn't make sense, he was the Prince of Camden, why weren't people here? Why weren't people filling the streets with their tears?

"Okay." Saboo agreed. The whooshing came again, this couldn't be good for his hair, Vince thought. He opened his eyes slowly and saw Howard, crouched in a corner of their shared bedroom, wincing in the pain as he gave himself a Chinese burn.

"Howard?" Vince whispered.

The older man had tears falling from his eyes as he self-harmed. He was whispering something to himself.

"Can I go close to him?" Vince asked Saboo.

"Yes but he can't…"

"hear me." interrupted Vince. "I know."

"Harrison told you something then, did he?"

Vince nodded as he tentatively stepped towards his distraught friend.

"This is all my fault." Howard whispered, strengthening the burn on his arm. "I must do something to make Vince hate me…"

"I don't hate you."

"… I don't deserve him. I don't know what to do. He's got all his new friends. He doesn't need me anymore. He doesn't need me. I should leave. He keeps saying I'm holding him back. You hold him back Howard Moon!" he cried, trying (and failing) to kick himself in the shin.

"You don't hold me back." Vince promised. "Howard, listen to me. I'm sorry. Saboo, tell him, I'm sorry."

"I can't talk to him either." shrugged the tall man.

"But this is the present! We can alter the present, well, I can't. I'm in hospital or something, but you can…"

"I'm a ghost."

"But you said you weren't dead!"

"I'm not." Saboo sighed exasperatedly.

"So tell him!"

"I think you should listen to what he has to say."

"I'm sorry Vince." Howard said, suddenly pushing himself to his feet. "I'm sorry for letting you down. I'm sorry I was always such a burden to you. I'm sorry I annoy you so much that you drank yourself into a coma. I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen." Then, with a look on his face of determination and realisation, he sighed; "I have to go to Leeds."

"No!" Vince cried, as Howard went up the stairs to pack his suitcase. "Howard! Stop! Please! Saboo! Make it better!"

"Only you can make it better, Vince."

"But he can't hear me."

"When you wake up."

"So let me wake up! Let me wake up!"

"No. It's not over yet."

"No! Please." begged Vince, as he felt the familiar heavy lids closing his eyes and the whooshing in his ears. "I can't go through another one of these… please." But his words were swallowed by the rush of wind and the darkness engulfed him.

Vince opened his eyes expecting to find himself in the white room, which seemed to be the starting place of all these strange journeys through time and space but he was wrong. This room was similar but it was an off-grey and much colder, more sinister too. He didn't like this. This didn't feel as safe as before. He felt nervous and terrified. He didn't want to see how he'd ruined his life again. He couldn't bear it. How could he have let this happen to him and to Howard? He loved him. Oh God. Maybe… maybe that was what all this was about, realising he loved Howard. Was that the purpose of this whole strange incident? Wait. Why were none of the Shaman nattering in his ear? He looked up to see Naboo stood in front of him, beckoning him forward.

Vince stood carefully.

"What's up?" he asked. "What is this? What time is this? Past again? Do I get to see a time when Howard and me were happy?"

Naboo shook his head.

"Present? I can't watch Howard cry again. It's not fair."

Naboo shook his head.

"What then? What time is it? And why aren't you saying anything? Naboo. Speak to me."

Naboo gestured indicating he couldn't speak and then touched Vince's temple, showing him he had to think for himself.

"I am thinking. What else is there? We've had past and present. Is this… ancient history?"

"Future!" Naboo exploded.

"I thought you couldn't speak." Vince frowned.

"I'm not supposed to. I'm the ghost of the future. I'm supposed to be silent, it says in the book but your idiocy is intolerable. Scrooge wasn't this stupid."

"Who's Scrooge?"

"He's the one in the Muppet's Christmas Carol who hates Christmas."

"Hates Christmas? None of them hate Christmas. Are you sure you're not mixing it up with the Grinch?"

"No Scrooge, the man in Christmas Carol. How many times have you watched that film?"

"Every year, at Christmas."

"And you don't even know the story?"

"Yeah, I do. Wait, is Scrooge the real man? The one who's played by the Italian job bloke?"

"Michael Caine, yes."

"Ahh, I wind through his bits."

"What? That's the majority of the film."

"You know me Naboo, I only watch TV if it's cartoons or Muppets."

"You are unbelievable."

"Hmm. So, what are we going to see?"

"You're future." Naboo explained. "Now, this is a very difficult procedure so just give me a moment."

The air around them started to spin but this time it was icy cold and bit at Vince's skinny, bare arms. His robe was torn in every which way, rips appearing in the cloth. Then they stopped. Vince hit the ground with a hard bump, nothing like the soft landings of the other shaman, though Naboo had never really been one for niceties.

Vince peered round at the new place. They were in a small churchyard, complete with gravestones and trees. The sky was dark, almost as though even the heavens rued this day. There was a man stood by the entrance of the church. A man who looked a lot like Vince but older, much, much older, frail even. He had grey hair and wrinkles cutting through his face. He was wearing an old black suit with shoes to match and he was crying softly. Vince frowned.

"Is that me?" he asked Naboo quietly.

The shaman nodded, obviously attempting to re-capture the silence of a Dicken's spirit of Christmas yet to come. Vince peered back at future him and shuddered.

"But I look… awful."

Naboo shrugged in a way which said; 'Yep.'

"Why am I at the church?"

Naboo put a finger to his lips and then pointed to a man in in mid-forties, who was rushing up the path. Vince didn't think he recognised him but, at the same time, the man looked strangely familiar. When he spoke, the man had a thick Yorkshire accent.

"Are we in Leeds?" Vince asked.

Naboo nodded again and then pointed more urgently at future Vince. Vince watched as the almost recognisable man spoke.

"Hello."

"Hi." Future Vince replied. "Has it started yet?"

"No."

"Good."

"My names Frank. I'm Howard's son."

Vince's heart sank. Howard's son? When could this have happened? He opened his mouth to ask Naboo but the shaman shook his head pointedly and gestured back at the scene ahead of them.

"Who are you?" Frank inquired politely.

"My name's Vince."

"Noir?" Howard's son asked, in complete shock.

Future Vince nodded sorrowfully.

"What are you doing here?"

"I had to say goodbye."

"You said goodbye to him over forty years ago."

"I was stupid then."

"You know, he used to talk about you all the time. He never had a bad word to say about you. He just told stories about how brilliant you were, about your adventures together; in the tundra, defeating some kind of fox, how you saved him from a merman or something, how you almost got raped by yeti's. The best stories were always about you, the great Vince Noir. But, after he'd tell the story, he'd always run off and cry in a corner. I never really understood it. I just assumed you'd died on one of the adventures, munched down by a dragon, or shot by some angry ant people or something equally unlikely. Then, on his death bed he told me the truth."

"What truth?"

"He explained that he held you back. Told me that you were going to be this big, famous rock and roll star and that he was just stopping you from fulfilling your dreams.""He wasn't." Future Vince promised. "He was my best friend."

"You never treated him like that though, did you? You treated him like a burden."

"I didn't mean it. I was young and stupid."

"You were horrible to him. You cursed his entire life and d'you what the worst thing was for me and my mum?"

"What?"

"We knew that he would never love us as much as he loved you. It put her into an early grave."

"Wait, he what?"

"He loved you. Right up until the day he died."

"How do you know?"

"He said, on his death bed. The last breath he had on this earth and he used it to make me promise to let you know that he loved you."

"What did he say exactly?"

"He said;" Frank's eyes full of tears as he swallowed and struggled to tell the story which caused him so much agony. "He said; Go. Find Vince Noir. Tell him, tell him, I loved him. That I always did and always will. He was the one for me, I'm just sorry that I was never the one for him."

Suddenly, the whooshing returned. Vince could feel the damp patches on his cheeks freezing as the cold air attacked them. The sound was deafening and he was thrown around more than any of the times before. Pain erupted in his head and his arms and legs suddenly felt week and flimsy; like he had the worst hangover of all time. When he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed. The very bed he'd seen with Saboo.

Had it been a dream? A coma? Some weird hallucination because of something his drink was spiked with? But what if it had been real? Then, well that meant… that meant Howard was leaving. Right now. Vince couldn't let that happen. He couldn't. There was no way he was going to live without Howard for, how long had Frank said, forty years.

Vince leapt out of the bed and ran. He was vaguely aware of nurses and doctors chasing him, trying to drag him back to the bed but Vince had always been naturally good at sport and running came easy to him, despite his throbbing head and tired limbs.

He kept running. He ran until he felt like his lungs were going explode. The pounding of his feet on tarmac matched the pounding of his heart on his ribcage but he didn't stop; couldn't stop. This was his only chance to save things with Howard. He knew now what he wanted, needed, craved. Howard. Howard was all that mattered.

He virtually fell through the shop door screaming at the top of his voice.

"Howard! Howard! Where are you?"

He heard a crash from upstairs and then the hammering of uncoordinated feet on stairs and then Howard was stood in front of him. His eyes were red and there was a dark red mark on his forearm.

"Howard." Vince whispered, in between pants, "Don't go."

"How did you know I was…"

"I had a dream or a vision, or one of those things where you suddenly realise something."

"An epiphany?"

"Yeah, one of those. I think Naboo had something to do with it but the point is, I know now how horrible I've been to you."

"But you…"

"Please Howard, let me finish. I remembered how good things back at the zoo and then I realised how I messed everything up and made it so horrible for you. I'm so sorry Howard. I really am. I don't mean to hurt you, honest I don't. You're my best friend. So please don't go back to Leeds and get married and don't have a son called Frank because at your funeral he'll be really mean to me. And you wont be happy, you'll pretend to be but you won't really be happy. And I won't be happy because I need you to make me happy Howard. I need you."

"Vince, what are you talking about?" Howard asked kindly. "Leeds, married, son's. Are you high?"

"I thought that's where you were going? Back to Leeds."

"Well, yeah but only to visit my parents. I wasn't planning to stay there forever. I couldn't live without you Vince."

"But the dreams, visions."

"What dream? What visions?"

"Naboo. Where's Naboo?"

"Upstairs." Howard replied, totally confused.

Vince legged it upstairs to find the Shaman reading the newspaper.

"Oh, hello Vince." he said with an air of boredom. "Nice day?"

"Was it real, Naboo?"

"Was _what_ real?"

"Everything, this morning."

"Well, the memory was true. That was fairly easy we just put you and Harrison inside an old home video we had from the zoo; relatively straight forward really. And the present, that was simple enough. We just brought you here to see what Howard gets up to when you're not around."

"The future Naboo? Was that my future?"

"Oh." Naboo paused for a second and then sighed. "I really have no idea. I suppose it could be _**a **_future, maybe. I'm a shaman not a psychic, not that they really exist outside stories."

"So what are you saying?"

"I made up the future bit. To be honest with you, I doubt Howard would ever be able to leave you. You're both so co-dependent that I don't think either of you would be able to leave the other."

"So why did you do it Naboo? I thought Howard hated me, I thought I was never going to see him again."

"You needed a wake up call." Naboo explained expressionless, "Now, is there anything else? Because Peacock dreams is about to start."

"No that's it." sighed Vince, going back downstairs to find Howard.

--

The older man was sat behind the desk in the shop. He looked up when Vince walked in.

"Did you mean what you said earlier Vince?"

"About what?"

"Needing me? Me being your best friend?"

"Yes." Vince nodded, "Howard, I think the reason I'm so horrible to you is because, well, I mean, I think I… no, I know I…"

"Come on spit it out." smiled Howard, "It's not like you to get tongue tied."

Then Vince realised, words could never cut it. Not now, so he did what he should have done all those years ago in that hut. He leant forward and kissed Howard.

Howard's inexperience, was all but forgotten as he locked lips with his friend. All the pain and torture from the last few years melted away and was replaced by the love that poured into the kiss.

"I'm sorry." Vince mumbled against Howard's lips. "So, so sorry."

"Don't be." Howard smiled, "We're here now."

"We should have been here sooner." Vince sighed, tears streaming down his face. "I love you Howard."

"I love you too."

"Don't go to Leeds." Vince begged. "Stay here with me. Then we'll both go and see your family in a few weeks time, when this is a proper relationship."

"What d'you mean by that?" Howard asked nervously. He loved Vince but he was painfully inexperienced in matters of the bedroom.

"No idea." Vince shrugged, "I've never been in a proper relationship before."

"Oh, I thought you meant…" Howard trailed off, blushing furiously.

"Oh." smiled Vince, catching on surprisingly quickly. "We've got all the time in the world for that." He promised, "And we'll take it as slow or as fast as you want. To be honest, it'll be like my first time too."

"But what about all the others you bring back from the clubs and all the people you…?"

"They were just mindless sex. With you it'll be making love, that's terrifying." Vince smiled up at him, coy and beautifully honest. Howard smiled back, he loved seeing Vince like this; the real Vince, the Vince that only Howard saw.

"Thank you." breathed the older man.

"What for?" Vince frowned.

"Just… I love you little man." Howard grinned.

"I love you too." Vince beamed, catching Howard's lips again for the sweetest love filled kiss.

Naboo's cruel little trick had taught Vince a lot. The past had taught him to seize every moment he had with Howard. The present taught him to never take Howard for granted. And the past taught him to use more moisturiser and anti-wrinkle cream, because there was no way he ever wanted to have _that _many wrinkles or grey hair!


End file.
